Shore Leave
by RhondaStar
Summary: Set after 'The Eternal Tide.' It seems to me Kathryn's had a hell of a time of it, so what better way to relax than drinking, dancing and Chakotay. A bit of sexy silliness! Don't know if it will go anywhere but highly enjoyable to write!


_Set at least two months after the events of 'The Eternal Tide'. It seemed to me Janeway has been through the ringer – she deserves a little fun! My love and thanks to Kirsten Beyer because for me she saved J/C. This is one of those 1a.m. inspirations so forgive any silliness!_

* * *

**Shore Leave**

Somehow she pushes things back. Rearranges. Changes days. So she's back at his apartment by 3:00 in the afternoon. She still hasn't found one of her own, alternating her time between hotels, her mother's house and Chakotay's apartment in the city. She claims she's looking. She refused Starfleet's offer of one. She hasn't quite worked out why yet.

She hoped to beat him back, he was due in at four, and it's been over three weeks since she's seen him face-to-face, but when she enters his apartment he's already back. His bag in the lounge, the sound of the sonic shower. It doesn't take her long to alter her plans. The fresh food she'd purchased on the way home abandoned in the kitchen, along with the flowers and the wine.

In seconds she's in the bathroom, her uniform half off before she even removes her boots. Before he turns and realises somebody is in the room she's naked and climbing in behind him, the palms of her hands on his back.

"Shh," she whispers, breathing him in as her lips dance over his skin.

She hears his smile.

"Hi," his hands are trying to reach back to touch her, his fingertips brushing her hip. "Kathryn," he breathes through clenched teeth.

She allows him to turn her, enfolding her in his arms. For a moment they do nothing but embrace, then she looks up at him, a slight smile on her face as she tiptoes up to kiss him.

"Welcome home."

"Nice welcome."

"I haven't finished yet."

* * *

She knows that for most of her life she's been seen as a bit of an Ice Queen. Perhaps the label is well aimed, but not now, not anymore. She's no prim and proper virgin but she can't remember a point in her life when she enjoyed herself more sexually or had as much passion with somebody as she has with Chakotay.

It's mid-afternoon and she's naked in bed, she's made him cry out her name more times than she can count and they haven't even talked yet.

It's a primal, raw need to have him physically – just as she expects it is for him. They wasted too many years on protocol and politeness. She feels she's wasted too much time. Dying does that to a person, offers perspective. And she soon realised that far from hiding from her feelings she should dive right on in and enjoy them, who really knows how long you'll have to do just that?

His bed is better with him in it. She can hear the city outside, the sunlight is coming through, life is going on. She's making love with her former first officer.

She's alive.

* * *

She tastes of coffee; it's a familiar occurrence and one he's come to adore. Her body is still slightly underweight but it's getting better; she's always been slight after all, formidable nevertheless.

She's on top of him, her torso pressed tight against his, her legs drawn up slightly to give the right angle. He reaches up to slide his hand into her hair, allowing it to fall around his face in soft fragrant waves. This too has become something of a ritual.

Her body moves slowly, deliberately so, after the rush of lust in the shower, the headiness of having her in his bed, this is soft and quiet. His hands on her hips, their mouths meeting continuously in languid kisses.

"I can't get enough of you," he murmurs as she kisses his chest, rising above him, drawing him ever closer to the edge.

The words fill her with pride and affection, devotion, she feels devoted now. Finally settled.

* * *

"So how was the mission?"

"If I say _there's nothing much to tell_ you get the idea."

She walks naked from the bathroom back to the bed, watches him watching her, the way he's laid out completely relaxed, no self-conscious pangs or body hang-ups. He's taught her to be more relaxed about her body.

She crawls back in next to him, laying across the bed, her head on his stomach, she twists until she's comfortable and turns her head to look up at him. His fingers are tangled in her hair, spreading it out over his belly.

"How's life as an Admiral?"

"The same," she pouts, "dull as hell, I'm going stir crazy. But toeing the line like a good girl. I think I can make it to six months before I break something." She sighed, "I miss being out there. I think we're both being tested."

"I think so too. When we retire…" he starts.

"I'm never retiring."

"Well then when _I_ retire I'm gonna get a little ship and explore."

She smiles, folding one of her hands with his, bringing it to her mouth so she can kiss his fingers. "I'd like that."

"Thought so."

"Let's do it now."

"Get a little ship?"

"Yes, and go now, just the two of us."

"Alright, should I resign my commission first?"

She giggles, feeling silly, and surprisingly young.

"How long are you here again – five days?"

"Perhaps, more likely three, it's a flying visit. As you can expect B'lanna wasn't best pleased."

"My mother wants to see you."

"Why does that sound ominous?"

"It isn't, she just wants to see you, probably to thank you."

"Shall we go for dinner one night?"

"If you can fit it in."

He bites the inside of his cheek, he knows well enough how to handle her now.

"I'll contact her tomorrow. Are you hungry? Did you eat anything at all today?"

"I had breakfast," she scowls. "I did bring food for dinner, I was going to surprise you but you were already here. And then you distracted me."

"**I** distracted **you**? Wasn't it you who crept up on me in the shower?"

"A minor point."

He shifts a little; enough so he's half sat and can lean over her. "I missed you." He nuzzles her chin, delicate kisses on her jawline.

"I missed you too," she smiles, giddy, her heart light. "Let's eat in bed."

* * *

They sleep for a while. It's dark in the room when Kathryn wakes to find the bed empty.

"Chakotay," she asks sitting up quickly, she's been sleeping with low lights on whilst he's been gone, she daren't assess why. "Chakotay?" She says with more force.

"In the kitchen, you want some water?"

"Mmm, yes." She rubs her face, clearing the panic that had set in.

"You alright?" He asks on his return, she's by the window, her robe pulled tight around her as she looks out at the night sky.

"Yes, what time is it?"

"Just after eleven. Did you say you were free tomorrow?"

"I've cleared my schedule." She can see the stars, make out constellations, it reminds her of being young, flat on her back in a cornfield drawing patterns in the air. She wants to take him there and show him.

"What shall we do?" He asks gently waiting for her to return to him.

She shrugs, sitting on the edge of the bed beside him, taking the glass of water from his hand and drinking deeply. "Whatever you want to do, this is your shore leave."

"Let's swim, go to the beach, then maybe have dinner with your mother."

"That sounds nice," she pulls her legs up on to the bed, leaning back against him. "I feel happy." She says into the darkness.

"Me too." He closes his eyes, he's happy because she is, because her happiness seems to stem mainly from their relationship and how easy it all is between them. How good.

"I've never felt so happy. I want to enjoy it all."

"But?"

"I should feel guilty for feeling this way, too many lost their lives, are losing their lives. And I'm happy."

"Our happiness isn't dependent on the rest of the universe. We have a small spot in it. An insignificant one. It tore my soul when I lost you, I don't intend to waste a moment I have with you now mulling over what is and what isn't."

She's grateful for his words. His clarity. It doesn't lessen the guilt but it helps to shake it off a little more, a little more every day.

"I wanna go out?" She states, suddenly full of energy.

"Now? It's late." He watches as she gets up from the bed, opening the wardrobe and standing on tip toes to reach for a box on the top shelf.

"Not that late. You're home for three days; I want to go out and drink cocktails and get drunk together and dance and dance and dance." She's putting on shoes, heels, he admires the look as she removes her robe and slips on her underwear.

"You're going to wear me out."

She leans over him in the bed, "Absolutely my intention," and kisses him, "Get dressed."

"You still have a knack with giving orders," he complains, but he's already getting out of bed and searching for his briefs.

"It's a habit."

* * *

"Where shall we go?" Her arm is tucked in his, she's wearing a black dress, it's tighter than she'd usually go for but she likes the idea of dressing for him, every now and then anyhow.

"You want to get drunk and dance and dance and dance – I have absolutely no idea."

"Chakotay, you must have _some_ idea."

"I'm in my fifties now Kathryn, and I haven't spent much time on Earth in the past ten years, in case you'd forgotten."

"It hadn't slipped my mind."

"Surely we can find a bar, have a drink, there's one by the bay."

"No, I want to dance, I want a club. I haven't danced in years."

"There's a reason I haven't danced in years."

The air is cool and fresh, she twirls in front of him, the skirt of her dress moving in the breeze, pulling him towards her with both of her hands, "I want to enjoy being alive. And I want to enjoy it with you."

He couldn't argue with that.

"Alright, where did you used to go when you were at the Academy, as a cadet?"

* * *

The club is like most clubs. Loud. Hot. Pounding with music and energy. It's what she wanted. What she needs.

She orders two odd sounding cocktails from the menu; he leans on the bar as she does so watching the rise and fall of bodies as they move to the music. His eyes move back to her legs, the way she looks in heels, the extra inches bringing her height up to his. Her hair is down, tousled from where his fingers were earlier. She looks sexy. It's not a word he's often associated with her. Beautiful, yes. Desirable, of course.

"One drink," she interrupts his musings pushing a small glass of some odd coloured concoction into his hand. "To fortify, then you dance with me."

"What colour is this?"

"Orange I think. Okay, after three."

He nods.

"One. Two. Three."

They swallow back the drink, he grimaces, she breathes deeply and closes her eyes as the liquor hits the back of her throat.

"I can't even tell you what that tastes of." He quips.

"They have a coffee one on the menu, we'll do that next."

Her perseverance and energy don't surprise him, the fact they're here perhaps does, but who is he to question, she returned from the dead – if she wants to drink cocktails and have fun they why shouldn't she?

She takes his hand. "Ready?"

"I feel like I'm reliving my youth."

She's laughing as she leads him out to the dance floor, tight amongst the others already there. He's slightly uncomfortable, it's hot and the lights flash in various shades of neon, but then she moves to the music and he's never seen anything so fluid and wonderful in his life.

The alcohol begins to kick in. His hands are on her waist, she wiggles back against him, swaying with the beat, her eyes closed as she leans her head back. The heels provide her hips with extra wiggle and he enjoys the sensation, glad of their earlier bouts in the apartment or he'd be suffering now and even more acutely aware of her bottom being next to his groin.

* * *

"What's this one?"

"A shot of something strong."

"I'll be sick, you know I don't drink."

"Oh and I'm a resident here. My night of fun remember, I'll administer the hypospray myself when we get back."

"You won't be able to walk soon."

"Watch me." Her eyes hold that mischievous wicked glint that amuses him so much, she's nothing if not determined. "With me?" She holds her glass up.

"Always," he knocks his glass against hers and once again they down it in one together. "Oh spirits, I've burned the skin from my throat."

She slams her hand against his arm, squeezing as she swallows, "That tasted like tar."

He laughs loudly, "How often have you tasted tar?"

"Just the once, shall we stick to wine now?"

"I'll stick to water; one of us needs to be sober to get home."

"You're no fun." She leans back over the bar beckoning the tender, he stands behind her, his hands beside hers on the bar, she closes her eyes as she leans back against him, his mouth on the back of her neck. "I take it back," she whispers, "you're lots of fun."

"One glass of wine." He offers in reply.

* * *

"Captain Chakotay?" A young voice enquires, moving through the crowd towards the older man.

"Ensign Farrow, good to see you."

Kathryn watched him over the head of the young man with an amused smile, he was clearly uncomfortable, his cheeks reddening, eyes slightly downcast.

"Kathryn," he said, "this is Sam Farrow, newly assigned to Voyager."

The boy turned from his Captain, eyes widening, "Oh my… Admiral Janeway."

She held out her hand, "Pleased to meet you Sam. Are you having fun?"

"I didn't expect to see you here," he said, looking from one face to the other, trying to rationalise the situation.

"We didn't expect to be seen," she smiled serenely sipping her wine. Feeling like the world was tipping to the left slightly but doing her best to combat it.

"We're going after this drink," Chakotay says firmly, more for Kathryn than their young companion. She feels the urge to blob her tongue out at him but restrains herself. "Are you here alone?" He asks the boy.

"With some old friends." He glances back towards the crowd; Kathryn wonders just how _old_ they can possibly be. "I best get back to them, good to see you though Captain."

"And you ensign."

Sam coughs, rubbing his chin nervously, "Admiral."

She holds her glass up to him, "Bye Sam, lovely to meet you."

The boy scuttles off.

"You're incorrigible Kathryn." Chakotay chides, amused.

"Good to know I'm still feared, even if I did die. Perhaps that's made young ensigns fear me more."

"Indestructible."

She takes a gulp of her wine. Is she?

The slight stagger to the left convinces her otherwise, Chakotay catches her arm holding her up.

"Oops," she smiles.

"Time to go." He holds her arm tighter, supporting her.

"I haven't finished my drink yet."

"Then at least let's sit down and talk for a while."

She leans her body into him, deliberately so, "They're playing a slow song now, let's dance again."

"With ensign Farrow watching."

"Surely he has more important things to do than watch us flirting." She whispers by his ear, "Remember when I seduced you on Proxima…"

"Oh, is that how it happened, seduction, I remember it slightly differently."

"It was," she finishes her glass of wine, swapping the half-full glass in his hand with her empty one. "I could do it again."

"I sense a condition."

She trails one hand up his arm, "Just one more dance."

"You're like a child trying to get its own way."

But his arms are already around her waist.

* * *

"My feet hurt," she complained.

"I'm not surprised; you don't normally wear such high heels, let alone dance in them for hours."

"That's no help, carry me."

"People will stare."

She swung her arms about her, "The streets are empty."

Shaking his head he continued, "Come on, it's cold now, I want my bed." His head was spinning and truth be told he was glad of the refreshing air and that he stopped mid-glass of wine. Kathryn polished off at least another two. He had no idea how she was standing.

"Stop!" She suddenly announced.

He did so, turning to see what was wrong now, she leant one hand against his stomach, reaching down to remove her shoes. "I can't go a step further."

"Cute," he chuckled. "Better now?" He asked as she tucked her arm through his.

"Yes."

"Warm enough? You sure you don't need my coat."

"I'm fine, very fine."

"Oh how I can't wait to remind you of this night. I haven't seen you this drunk since we met the Baderians and you got carried away on their cider."

"It wasn't called 'cider', they said it was a fruit drink, how was I to know it was so intoxicating?"

"I remember I had to hold you up as we walked back to your quarters."

She laughed, "I kept tripping over my own feet."

"Crew men were trying not to stare."

She laughed harder, doubling over, causing him to laugh too at the memory.

"You know," she added when she was calm again, "that night, I really wanted to take you to bed."

He let out a tight breath, "Jeez Kathryn, don't tell me things like that, I suffered for years."

She smiled, laying her head against his arm, "I know. And I'm sorry for that. I'm glad we're making up for it now though."

They both quieted as they passed a young couple sat kissing on a bench.

"You wanna do that?" She asked glancing back at them.

"What, sit in the cold kissing, I'd rather do it in the warmth of the apartment."

"Let's find a quiet, secluded spot and –,"

"No!" He said quickly.

"Chakotay, you're the one who's all about being at one with nature. You could be at one with me outside surrounded by nature." She hiccupped.

"Definitely reminding you about this tomorrow."

"I have a headache coming."

* * *

He had to strip her when they got back and it struck him as slightly amusing that it was his shore leave and she was the one drunk and barely able to stand.

"Do you remember ever seeing your Admirals in a club when you were a cadet?" She asked, flopping back on the bed as he removed her dress.

"No, but I remember I used to try and pair them up, who was with who."

She giggled, "Yes, I did that. How many girlfriends did you have then, did you take them dancing, get them drunk, make out on park benches…"

"I was busy training."

"Liar."

She clambered into bed, helped by his hands; he pulled the sheets up to cover her before undressing himself.

"A couple," He admitted. "You?"

"One, I was so serious. If we'd met then you wouldn't have looked at me."

"Don't bet against it."

"You wouldn't. You're gorgeous, charming, I was a geek."

"I might like geeks."

He came to lay beside her, happy when she turned and curled up against him.

"Did you have fun?"

"Lots of fun."

"Good." Tomorrow he'd have to try and ease her into a conversation about why she felt the need to let go to such an extent, some things were clearly not quite settled. But for now he let her enjoy it.

"I love you," she said, sleep beginning to overtake her.

"I know," he kissed her head, "and I love you too."

"Mmm. Let's get married."


End file.
